


Damn Dirty Apes (And Their Clever Hands)

by Doctopus



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Established Relationship, Genderbending, Genderfluid, Genderfuckery, Handplay, M/M, Other, PWP, keepin' it vague, like a classy bitch, this is tinsnip's fault
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-01-27 14:04:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1713266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctopus/pseuds/Doctopus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A response to Tinsnip's absolutely wonderful "A-Tisket, A-Tasket", locatable here on AO3.</p>
<p>While Garak may really want a repeat performance, Julian is a believer in quid pro quo. If Garak is going to get what he wants, he'll have to return the favor...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tinsnip](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinsnip/gifts).



> BECAUSE OF YOU TINSNIP
> 
> (A guide to Cardassian junk, and the appropriate terminology, can be found here: http://tinsnip.tumblr.com/post/67613563632/okay-so-i-just-read-your-ticks-fic-and-wow-that-was )

Refusal had been apparently entirely unexpected, judging by Garak's expression. He looked baffled at the very concept. "You don't want to do it again?" The noise of the replimat nearly drowned out his voice, so confused that he hadn't bothered to raise his voice.

"No." Julian sipped his tea, biding his time. He had to play this carefully - not because it was of any great importance, but because Garak enjoyed these little domestic manipulations.

"I...understand. I thought you had enjoyed yourself, but-"

Julian interrupted again, keeping him off his balance. "I enjoyed myself a great deal. It just won't happen again."

Garak nodded, slowly. "Ah. Medical issues-"

"Nothing of the sort. I simply just don't feel like it." He stared at the Cardassian, unable to stop himself from smiling around the eyes. Garak's gaze grew suddenly very knowing. A faint smile struggled past any attempt to hide it.

"I...see. Would there be anything I could do to make you more comfortable? Perhaps a box of Delavian chocolates that I've been saving for a rainy day..." Saving for bribery. Julian inwardly applauded the attempt: if he hadn't already had something in mind, that would have gotten him.

"Actually, I was thinking of something different. Did you know that Cardassian surgeons have made incredible strides in the field of sex reassignment surgeries?"

The expression of pure stunned surprise on Garak's face was rewarding. He so rarely managed to intentionally startle the other man. Even more rewarding was the other expression, visible in that usually enigmatic face: interest.

* * *

 The span of two weeks found Julian entering Garak's shop, with a spring in his step. There had been some tricky work involved. Not on his part, he had elected not to perform the surgery himself, opting to let one of the medical staff, more experienced with Cardassian physiology in this aspect, attend to the procedure. He was confident in his own skills, but... To be honest, the affected portions of anatomy were rather near and dear to him. He wasn't sure he could have done them harm. He'd spent week around the surgery on Bajor, helping the hospitals down there, to distract himself.

He leaned against a wall, smiling, watching Garak. He was more than aware of Julian's presence, but he was ignoring him. His irritability at the request had been it's own game, and there had been a lot of enjoyable soothing of his ego. And other things, between cool sheets in a room heated up to Cardassian appropriate temperatures. Julian had enjoyed it. He'd been told by his mother that holding a mouthful of something cool could help beat the heat; she probably had meant something else.

Still, while watching those deft hands work was mesmerizing... He had other things in mind. "Good afternoon."

Garak glanced up at him, sniffing, before looking away. "Ah, Doctor. How good of you to finally stop in." Julian smothered a grin. If truly annoyed, Garak wouldn't have bothered being passive aggressive. More hoops to jump through.

"I couldn't trust myself not to ruin your convalescence. You needed your rest while healing, after all." He smiled, moving closer. "I wouldn't have wanted to cause you any irreparable harm." Standing by the desk, letting his fingers trail over the bolts of cloth.

Garak snorted, reaching out to move his fingers away. Julian took his hand, squeezing it, thumb rubbing over the scaled back, slowly. "Are you feeling better?" He lifted the hand up to his mouth, to bite one of the fingers, delicately. Garak shot him a look.

"Fine, thank you. I suppose the time apart let me focus on recovery." His tone was impersonal, but he didn't move his hand, as Julian took another slow nip at the fingertip. His teeth dug slightly against the scales, just enough for Garak to feel, before he moved along, brushing his cheek against the other man's wrist.

"That's good. I'd hate to think you'd been sitting here, fretting over me." His mouth nipped at the exposed skin, just before the cuff of the sleeve. Kisses on scale were nice, but bites could be felt far more easily. Garak snorted at the idea.

"I am not a blushing damsel, my dear Doctor." Julian smiled at him, reaching out to touch his chest, through his clothes. He rubbed, slowly, letting warm fingers stroke over Garak's chula. The Cardassian shifted, his body reacting to the heat at a sensitive spot. Julian didn't usually get this forward in public, and he'd been gambling on Garak being more intrigued than upset at the change. "I found things to occupy me." His tone hadn't changed, but there was a definite flush to his chufa, and his lips were parted.

"I assure you, Garak, that I don't think of you as a damsel." His hand trailed lower, feeling out the soft musculature of the other man's belly. Garak's waistline was a mix of muscle and the adipose tissue all Cardassians gained. Julian, who had a long and storied history of being attracted to fit, trim people, had found the change to be surprisingly refreshing. He stroked, feeling Garak shift against the warmth of his palm. His fingers slid lower, down towards the tailor's pants.

Garak inhaled, eyes widening, as Julian unfastened the top of them, teasingly tugging the material apart, before his fingers dove inside. Soft scales, and the start of the ridges that led to his chuva. He scratched them, lightly. The hiss of in-drawn breath had him shifting his legs, twitching in his pants as he dragged a fingertip down. Garak's eyes locked to his as he traced his finger around the edge of his chuva, and a moan bubbled up.

Julian smiled, his fingertip running just down that little impression, before he moved lower, to brush his fingers against the upper edges of his ajan. His smile took on a teasing tone, as he briefly slid his fingers along, exploring the differences. Up to this point, it was familiar territory. The lack of a prUt for one, but a finger pushed inside showed the rest of the changes.

The soft wetness of the ajan was a pleasant change, and Garak's worried glancing at the entrance to his shop was quite enjoyable too... But Julian had other things in mind. He spread the entrance open, and shifted two fingers inside. Garak licked his lips, reflexively, and then groaned, despite himself, as Julian wriggled his wrist. The motion made his palm brush against the vit, hidden away, and Garak lolled back in his chair, suddenly distracted. "What-"

"I did some reading, while I was on Bajor." He shifted his hand again, enjoying the responding shift and twitch in Garak's body. The older man was gripping the desk, thighs tense as Julian moved his fingers. His hand shifted and grinded where it pressed. Garak grunted, entirely surprised at the sensation... "Is it good for you?"

"Y-yes- Just- Hhn-" Whatever he had been about to say was lost in another groan. Julian smirked and set to work. Minor corrections were made, of course. Garak made him move his hand back, after a slightly too firm bump against the vit. And of course, there was the enjoyable fact that after three minutes, Garak had put his hand in Julian's lap to try to regain some control of the situation.

As it was, he rocked against Garak's palm as his cock was rubbed, in soft, fast little motions. His own hand moved, slightly tired but undefeated, in sharp little circles, keeping Garak's hips twitching in his seat. The fact of the public being able to walk in at any time wasn't stopping Garak from a small symphony of moans, grunts, and little hisses.

"Just let it happen- Oh-" Julian wasn't all that quiet himself, the feeling of a scaled palm through his pants a welcome counterpoint. He extended a finger to brush the ridge of Garak's chuva on each shift. A strangled gasp was his reward, Garak shuddering, tensing inside as he came. Julian sighed in slight disappointment as he went limp, resting boneless in the chair, but took it as a testament to his own skill.

"See? Now isn't reciprocation a lovely thing..." He smiled, sweetness and honey as Garak recovered. The tailor shifted against his hand again, briefly.

"My dear Doctor, if you would but let me close up, I'll take you back to our quarters and show you exactly how the Cardassian Empire approaches 'reciprocation'..." Julian shivered, at the growled, purred threat.

He could hardly wait.


	2. Doldrums and Distractions Aplenty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sitting in a store on a slow day can be frustrating. When a certain Doctor gets involved, that frustration can be compounded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TINSNIP THIS IS STILL YOUR FAULT

"All I'm asking is that you give it a chance-" It wasn't quite a whine, but it had enough characteristics in common that Elim tapped his tongue against his teeth. Bashir immediately flushed (He had trained the Doctor so well, he already knew chastisement! After that was just making him respond to it.).  
  
"My dear Doctor, have I not been entirely a willing participant in this little experiment? Did I not bend to your whims when you came to me with such a selfish and strange request? I think it's entirely reasonable for me to have some reservations." Inwardly, he smirked at Bashir's expression. It was a mix of eyerolling, gape-mouthed outrage at the 'selfish' portion (He hadn't been pleasured so often since his time as a gardener on Romulus. Ah, Pelak...). "I find this whole insistence on pushing my boundaries to be rather rude, not to mention self-centered on your part-"

"I'll let you do the same to me when I switch." Elim allowed his eyebrows to raise minutely, at that little admission. He'd been merely teasing, but this had potential. He was sure he could extend that little promise, with a little complaint and a story of how unenjoyable it was. Really, Bashir was only setting himself up for disappointment. He'd never done anything like this, but Elim was certain he could handle it.

"Well then. In that case, Doctor, proceed." Smirking.

After all, if he remembered the word correctly, toys were a thing for children, were they not?

* * *

He was going to murder him. He'd decided that an hour ago. Snap his neck and dump him into one of the main station furnaces, remove any genetic identifiers he might have left on the body or in Bashir's quarters, and-

The little bead pulsed again, a low buzz that hummed along his  _chuva_ , and through his  _ajan_ and  _vit_. Elim abruptly lost his train of thought for a moment, gritting his teeth. If he made a noise, or removed it, the Doctor won, he'd already decided that. There was no enjoyment to be had here, only torture. The damn thing ("A vibrating bullet, they call them. Recieves subspace signals from a remote I'll be carrying, and can be programmed into a pattern-") was a nuisance. He'd used some recreational sexual devices himself, but this was a uniquely human one, and he hated it-

Another pulse, and the muscles in his thighs twitched, his fingers clenched tightly on the material of his desk. The little bead hummed, but gave a deeper buzz every little while. As of now, that was four minutes. What a stupid measurement of time, and what a stupid amount of time. Four? Why not ten or five or something that made more sense? It spoke to Doctor Bashir's ridiculous sense of melodrama. Elim had done his fair share of interrogation, and knew how a poorly wound clock could drive someone mad far faster than a knife. He wondered if this was some Obsidian Order plot to drive him insane. Tain was a devious...

He waited for a second, confused. It had been four minutes, why wasn't it-

 Four minutes and eight seconds after the last pulse, it throbbed, once, twice, and Elim made a stuttered gasping noise,  _ajan_ clenching around nothing as he shuddered and twitched. His fingernails clawed little divots out of the wood of his desk as his hands clenched. He panted, resting his _chufa_ against the cool desk. It was probably one of the most unsatisfying orgasms he'd ever had. He wanted something warm and trembling inside him, and this  _thing_ certainly wasn't going to make him come undone. No, not at all. He was Elim Garak, and he'd survived far worse-

The bead pulsed again, and try as he would, Elim couldn't stifle a worried whimper.

* * *

Julian was feeling rather pleased with himself. It had been a rather pleasant distraction, imagining Garak with the little vibrating bead taped to his groin. He'd fiddled with the remote a few times, adjusting the frequency or the intensity of the pulse, and had giggled to himself, imagining Garak's reaction. The nurses had given him looks, but he'd ignored them, picturing Garak goggle eyed as he had fitted clothes for customers. It was unlikely, as the majority of the tailor's time was spent working on orders or taking them, but he thought there was a chance of it.

He rounded the corner and stared in surprise at the 'away on business' sign hanging from the shop's door. Well that wasn't good- Perhaps something had gone wrong. He hurried towards the doors, tapping in the override Garak had given him, and ducked inside, closing them behind him. The after-hours lighting program was in effect, reducing the shop's interior to a dim collection of shadows.  
  
"Garak, are you in here-" He squawked as strong hands grabbed him by the shoulders, yanking him into a changing room. He stumbled over the fitting stool, knocking into the wall, and coming face to face with a disheveled, glaring Garak.

"You scum- You-" The tailor broke into a flurry of hissed swearwords that didn't translate. Julian blinked, startled and off balance.

"Are you alright? You look unwell-" His words were met with another explosion of expletives, as the Tailor fumbled with his trousers, hands shaking. He shuddered, midway through, barely bracing himself against the wall, before his pants fell around his ankles. Julian was treated to the sight of the vibrating bullet taped over a flushed  _ajan_ , dribbling wet and purpled with blood. The faintest glimpse of an engorged _vit_ was visible inside. Garak seized his shoulders again, and pushed him to his knees, before pulling him forward. Julian's cheek hit a wet, twitching thigh. _Oh_. _  
_

He moved rather quickly after that, fingers spreading Garak's  _ajan_ as he writhed, a hand stabilizing the Cardassian's hips as his tongue pressed in, running over sensitive flesh, and up to brush the over-engorged bud of his  _vit_. Julian stroked his tongue against, feeling the buzz of the bead, working his fingers as Garak cursed and pulled at his hair. No more than a few minutes passed before Julian felt a deeper hum through the soft flesh on his tongue, and Garak made a croaking noise, wobbling dangerously as his fingers tightened in Julian's hair. He slid his tongue away, after a moment, and helped the other man sit.

Garak panted, briefly, before speaking in a calm, measured tone at absolute odds with his wild eyed appearance. "If you don't turn this thing off in the next minute, I am going to  _ **skin**_ **_you_**." **  
**

Julian gulped, and fumbled for the remote. A frantic few seconds later, and Garak relaxed, the faint hum of the bead ceasing. He lay there, disheveled and panting.

"I'm- I'm sorry, Garak, I didn't realize that-" He shut up as the Cardassian pinned him with a steely glare.

"Doctor, let me make this abundantly clear: the only thing your tongue will be able to do to rectify this has absolutely nothing to do with speaking." Julian nodded. Garak closed his eyes, briefly, before continuing. "As for any other recompense, well... Let me just say I am already planning your end of our little bargain."

Julian gulped again, and shifted. The worst thing about it all wasn't the impending doom, or how Garak would hold this over him for weeks.

It was how absolutely hard he was at the prospect of it all.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had the thought, after Tinsnip posted the next part of "A-Tisket, A-Tasket" (GO READ IT) that the only thing more amusing than Julian planning out a toy based event for himself was him planning one for Garak. This whole mess sprang from there.
> 
> Also Pelak totally rocked Garak's world and you cannot convince me otherwise.
> 
> Please comment below to tell me what you think~

**Author's Note:**

> aaaa so this basically emerged full formed right after reading "A-Tisket, A-Tasket". It's so good read it guys read it.
> 
> Also check out Tinsnip's many writings about Cardassian genitals because they're amazing and fueled the more porny half of this fic. Hence all the terminology.
> 
> Hopefully my smuts were sufficiently enjoyable. Comment and let me know below!


End file.
